By Johnny Oleksinski White planks. What I'm staring at with the mischievous grin of a shifty-eyed child is a field of neatly lined-up boards with both a silver shimmer and the scratched-at exterior of birch bark"a little bit Chekhov’s Tuzenbach, a little bit “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.” From the tall ceiling, metal chains stream down [...]
SOURCE: Newcity Stage at 05:05AM on March 6, 2013